


Wash the blood off my skin

by Lumeha



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Beast!Dimitri, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentall Illness, More tag to come as I post this, Oh also this is not clear now but hey :, Post Timeskip, Self-Indulgent, Teratophilia (incoming), The author is a monster lover and will stand by this, because as I said : self indulgent, no beta i die like an anxiety ridden author, please love your monsters and beasts, trans!felix
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-10-03 22:09:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20460278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lumeha/pseuds/Lumeha
Summary: People were whispering of a beast, a monster, a divine punishment against those who walked in the Garreg Mach monastery and tried to disturb its deadly peace. With a savage strength and the madness of grief in its wails, it terrified all who dared to approach the grave of the Church.Felix took his decision here and there, and neither Ingrid nor Sylvain could convince him to wait.He would recognize the beast that haunted the heart of the boar anywhere.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most self indulgent idea I ever had and I am genuinely getting anxious over it, despite loving it. I hope you are going to have fun reading all this self indulgent stuff !

It had been years, but Felix knew that no one showed his father the corpse of the king. There was a hope in his heart that he could only bury under the anger and venom that always held his tongue when he spoke of Dimitri, under the disappointed gaze of Rodrigue (but Rodrigue did not understand, did he ? He never did). And then he heard the rumors, brought to the Fraldarius’ lands by Ingrid, during a meeting between Sylvain, her and himself to discuss the war and the incoming battles. 

People were whispering of a beast, a monster, a divine punishment against those who walked in the Garreg Mach monastery and tried to disturb its deadly peace. With a savage strength and the madness of grief in its wails, it terrified all who dared to approach the grave of the Church. 

Felix took his decision here and there, and neither Ingrid nor Sylvain could convince him to wait. 

He would recognize the beast that haunted the heart of the boar anywhere. 

**xoxox**

As soon as Felix entered the ruined cathedral, the rays of the afternoon sun warming the dead stones, a shiver went down his spine, cold as the wind of the mountains. No corpses desecrated the place, despite blood and mangled bodies of bandits and imperial soldiers being strewn all over the monastery. 

The heavy furs and the ruined cloak did nothing to hide the inhumanity of the hulking silhouette standing in front of the rubbles, head turned to the sky. The beast was standing on its two legs, powerful, claws black as obsidian scratching unto the stone, remnants of black armor covering its feet. Far away as he was, Felix could not make much more sense of what he was seeing, the tattered blue remnants of Faerghus’ flag worn as a cape all he could focus on. 

When it turned its head toward the entrance of the cathedral, he could make sense of a leonine maw, sharp tusks protruding out of the beastly mouth. When an ice blue eye’s attention suddenly fixated on him, the other hastily covered by a bloodied bandage, Felix knew. 

“So that’s where you disappeared, boar.”

The sound of his heels echoed in the empty building as he slowly approached Dimitri, eyes never leaving the gaze that was focused on him. He was more human than the monsters they fought on the battlefield against the Empire, with their roars of pain and thick black blood, as if his blood refused to let him forget who he had been. 

“I guess the inside match the outside, now.”

A snarl answered him, the fallen king finally fully turning toward him. Remnants of armor had been hammered and tied with scraps of leather to fit his new form, and his clothes were ripped in multiple places, from fights or from his own changes, Felix did not know. 

“Did you lose your tongue ?”   
“Kill me or leave me.” 

A sharp answer was at the tip of his tongue when he noticed the blood sluggishly dropping off the bandage, dark red on the pale fur of his face.

“I apparently don’t need to try to kill you, you are doing that yourself well enough, boar king.”

Felix expected a show of violence, for the boar to use his strength to strike him down, to leave him as he left those soldiers, strewn around like ragdolls with empty eyes. But Dimitri turned his back, silent, as if his former friend was no more than a bother, a fly buzzing around his head, and a hot flash of anger rose through Felix’s throat and lungs. 

He stepped toward Dimitri, close, close enough to see the matted fur stuck with blood and the badly healing wounds. 

"What do you think you are doing, boar?" 

Dimitri caught his wrist before he could hit (before he could touch, brush the coarse fur, let magic swirl in his hands to heal the festering scars). His grip that was too soft for his brutish strength, and would only leave behind blooming bruises and clumsy scratches of claws. 

And still he refused to look at him in the eyes. 

"Look at me, boar." 

"I am no more than a walking corpse. Leave." 

The beast let go of his wrist, sure that the man was going to turn back and finally accept that this was it, the end of the road, the fulfillment of a vision he had for years - that Dimitri had only been an animal dressed as a human, desperate for violence and blood to satiate the shadows of the dead. That the boy he mourned all these years, hope still coiled tight in his heart, was dead, killed by his own shadows.

He did not see the scowl, did not hear the beating heart of anger, only the sounds of steps echoing through the dead marble. 

**xoxox**

“You. Me. Spar. Best of five. Winner gets to ask anything of the loser.”

It became Felix daily sentence, his voice hoarse despite it all. He could leave, give the man his wish, but he never turned his feet toward Faerghus. He stuck there, to the empty land of a dying Church, its only devouts feral cats and dogs and birds and the beast haunting its grounds. 

Every day, Felix came to ask. 

Every day, Dimitri refused to look at him. 

Felix thought he was going to crumble when the boar talked more often to the shadow he always fell behind. Day after day, it was silence, broken by promises of vengeance to people who would never rise from their graves. It was a reminder that the living were dead to this beast of vengeance, carrying invisible corpses on his shoulders (it was a reminder that he lost, he lost,  _ he lost _ , that no matter how strong he would get, he would always trail behind, too aware of the darkness and too in pain to accept kindness as more than an act). 

Days after days, until Felix felt like he was bursting at the seams with anger, white hot under his skin. With a trembling hand, he took the beast’s (the king’s, Dimitri’s) maw in his grip and forced him to lower his head. 

“Look at me. You stink. You let yourself fester, you let me be right ! I want to hit you so bad !”

But Dimitri did not look at him, his cold eye clouded by visions of the past. And it stung. It stung that even so close that he could smell the years of solitude, that he could choke on the remnants of illness and infection and blood, of sweat and dirt, so close that only the massive silhouette of Dimitri, of the lion, the boar, the monster still standing on his hind legs, was all he could see, it stung that he still felt more of a ghost than the ghosts.

"I didn't want to be right!" 

His fists hit the heavy chest plate, pain radiating from his hands to his elbows and shoulders. With a growl, he forced himself to blink through dry, painful eyes, gaze lost in the scratches covering the metal. 

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you." 

The heavy hand that crawled through his hair should have been terrifying, but the warmth settled under his skin. Claws, delicately, weaved into strands of hair falling from his bun. 

"I hate you", he repeated in a weak voice. 

“I hate myself”, the beast answered in a too human voice. 

They did not move, locked into an embrace that looked tender on the outside. But his heart beat too loud in his ears, blood boiling, a tempest raging in his veins. Felix felt tense, his white fingers gripping at the chinks in Dimitri's armor. His body refused to move, ready to collapse and crumble without the solid support of the body under his arms, as if his flesh feared that Dimitri would disappear again if he let go. 

A sudden sob wrecked his body and he slumped against the disgusting warmth of the beast, his eyes screwed shut, white dancing behind his eyelids. The ugly noise that ripped his throat made him hate his weak heart, still so fragile after all these years. 

"Spar with me", he asked in a broken voice. 

A long silence stretched, thick like coalescing blood. But none of them moved, harsh breaths echoing in the empty cathedral. The world stopped, just for a second, just for a minute, and it was all reduced to the heavy paws holding Felix’s head, a cloudy eye and the heavy scents of neglect and solitude. 

"Best of five", Dimitri said in a voice too small for his body, fragile like a the most delicate of silk thread. 

"Winner gets to ask anything of the loser." 

**xoxox**

The old training grounds felt like home, no matter their state. Some things would never change, no matter how much time passed. But others...

Felix looked down at Dimitri, pliant under the heel dug in his shoulder, his eye turned to the white clouds, his breath short and loud. The swordsman held the point of his blade under his maw, waiting for any sign of struggle. But nothing came. All the fight had left him, his body relaxed, so much more than he ever was for the couple of weeks Felix had spent in the monastery. 

A hot and heavy feeling coiled low in his guts, and he bit his lips until he felt iron on his tongue. 

“Three. I win.”

Felix removed his feet from Dimitri’s shoulder and looked at the body sprawled on the ground. There was something twisted in his new appearance, beastly and full of rage, and yet, under the falling rays of the late afternoon… He caught his thoughts before they wandered too far, weaved between coarse fur and powerful muscles. 

“You will let me clean your eye for you.” 

Dimitri blinked slowly, frowning, before letting his head fall on the ground. 

“Why.”

“You don’t need to know why”, he said with violence laced in his voice. He could not think of why. He had no good reason. And yet, still, it was what he wanted. He could have forced answers out of him, explanations, forced words, forced actions, and, deep down, he knew Dimitri might have given them before slipping away with the dead once again. 

But, looking down at the bloodied bandage covering his face, it was all he could think of. 

**xoxox**

Dimitri’s mind felt slow and warm, the voice of the dead slurred. His only focus was Felix’s hands on the bandage on his face. The swordsman was scowling, muttering under his breath insults and annoyances, and it made him wish without knowing what he should wish for. But his movements were slow and careful, unwinding the fabric from his face, and he wanted to flinch away from the kindness he knew he was not worthy of. All his attention should be focused on Edelgard, on offering her blood to the procession always following him. His thoughts started spiralling, voices blurry and loud, loud, louder,  _ louder _ …

(Past and future and lips split in a disgusted rictus and shy smiles and guilt, strangling his throat and lungs and skull)

_ bring her head, bring her head, bring her head _

“Stop moving”, Felix growled, his hand soothing on the burning blood stuck to his face. “You truly are an idiotic beast, leaving that wound in that state.”

Dimitri blinked his good eye, voices fading to the background. His cortege of shadows was surrounding them, Glenn’s face blurring around Felix’s, and the beast wondered, wondered, wondered, but he could not catch his thought. It fled under observation, under the surprisingly gentle ministrations of a friend who was no longer a friend.

“What in the… Seriously, what happened to your eye ?”

“I… stabbed it.”

The hands stopped at the edges of the wound, cold and shaking. Another disappointment, another mess, another…

“You will let me take care of it until it’s properly healed, boar”, Felix said in a tone that accepted no disobedience, sharper than his sword, steel that did not bother to cover itself under velvet.

Dimitri opened his mouth but the other man took his maw in his hand, forcing him to keep it close without holding it shut. Felix brought a wet rag to the beast face and started to clean the fur and the wound with his free hand, gaze focused on the butchered side of his face. Dimitri stayed still. He had the strength. He could force Felix out, could throw him against the floor, rip out his throat and let the blood flow and disappear in the stone floor. 

But one hand on his maw, ungloved and unguarded, the skin pale and fresh, and he wanted to stand still. Let Felix take care of him. Forget the years that carved void into their friendship, forget the monstrous appearance he wore, the mask of humanity having fallen from his body. He wanted to let himself be lulled into the warmth of cold hands and half muttered insults, in acts clashing with words, in the soft oxymoron. 

_ bring her head, bring her head, bring her head _

A barking laugh ripped through his throat, dark and heavy, and even the delicate touch of hands could not bring him back in the moment. 

**xoxox**

The moon came and went, and with it Felix stayed, his tongue sharp as ever and the strange venom in his voice never far. No matter what, he stuck by Dimitri’s side, growling and scowling, never afraid even when faced with violence. More than once they clashed, with threats and the sound of bodies slammed against stone, words laced with cyanide, and the pain was a relief he hated, in the way it made him hope for loneliness and company. His mind felt like a tangled mess. He carried the will of the dead, and yet, and yet… 

(smiles and bright eyes and innocence lost, warm amber turned cold, like stone, like hearts, like the blood and fire and mountain of corpses he carried himself out of)

But his eye no longer made him suffer, under the soft care of his former friend. His wounds were being taken care of, one after the other, as if it was not rotten work. He felt like there was an understanding they did not have before, weaved between wounds, blood and violence, but in truth he did not feel worthy of this attention. Felix wrestled it out of him every time, forcing him to the floor one fight after another in sparring sessions that felt endless and blurry. The swordsman never had been one to fight like a knight, with punches and kicks and nails sharpened like claws, but always with a graceful speed, deadly dancer that he was. He wielded magic, too, lightning coursing through his fingers in punishing ways, the shock burning through the fog of his mind. They were a contrast of night and day. Felix, beautiful, impossible to catch, and Dimitri, all brutal strength, a towering beast that no one could hope to stop. 

Sometimes, sometimes, Dimitri wondered what Glenn would say, seeing his brother. But only the clamours of vengeance and violence ever spilled from his mouth, like the guts and blood that spilled from him the day of his death. 

It was in those moments that Dimitri lost himself, again and again, fighting between the mission he carried, burning through his body like fire, and the strange comfort brought to him by cold hands. His mind felt on the verge of clarity and darkness, in a very precarious equilibrium. The eyes and voices of the dead were always here, pushing him to war, and he knew in his heart that he had to do it. He was but a corpse carrying the will of corpses.

But the words of rage and anger of the only living one, the cold support he brought in fights and in daily tasks that a beast never took care of, in those years of wandering alone, it made some days… stranger. Felix had never hidden how he hated the boar he became. He did not try hide the venom in his voice. 

And yet he was the one standing in front of his father, of his mother, of Glenn, snarling, a tempest under his skin, a reminder of a different world beyond death. He was the one cleaning his wounds and forcing him on the ground, again and again, shutting his mind down from exhaustion. He had none of the softness Dedue showed him and still... It made him miss…

(a time, so far away, of innocence and life, his heart hoping for a love that would die in the blood tainting his hands)

(Blue Lions students, all around him, with smiles and laughs, even Felix, even Felix, and the hope that could not die down)

(Dedue, who swore to save him from Cornelia’s jails, but never had the time to do it, his lord wrecked by magic he did not understand and fleeing in a night of blood and tears, saved by the beast he became)

It made him miss, miss, miss what he refused to name, ghost full of regrets, and he wanted to wail and howl at the conflict wrecking his body. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess I just wanted to represent a bit how recovery is not at all linear ?   
... Also childhood friends are good okay I am here for 'em 
> 
> Enjoy !

Behind him, footsteps echoed in the cathedral. One, two, one, two, pitter patter on stone, light and prudent. But behind… there was the sound of metal against stone, further away. Dimitri tightened his grip on his spear, ears focused on the sound. It was different from the heavy steps of bandits or imperial soldiers ; different from the steps, sure and determined, of Felix. Those held some respect for the place they were in. 

“Felix ? Felix are you here ?” a voice asked, unsure, and it scratched at the edges of his mind with recognition. “Dimitri ?! Dimitri is that…” 

He turned around, spear ready to hit, a snarl in his throat. She was too close, running toward him, and it raised the fur at the back of his neck, baring his fangs and tusks in a display of anger. She parried the wide hit of his spear, stumbling under his strength.

One. Two. Three. A rhythm of fury, to force her out, out,  _ out _ . 

_ bring her head, feed us her blood, give us the rest we deserve _

“Dimitri… Dimitri, what happened to…” 

A hand at the collar of his cloak pulled him back from the fight and he let out a growl, low and deep. Betrayal, betrayal, betrayal, his mind wailed and cried. 

But Felix stood between him and Ingrid (Ingrid, Ingrid, he could see it was her, now, her blonde hair falling wildly around her face and her blue eyes large and shocked), offering his back to the angry beast. The smell of blood permeated the air, sudden, pungent, following the disgusting noise of flesh teared apart. 

A javelin. Dimitri was so used to be on guard, always ready for battalions to fight alone… To not have seen where it came from shook something deep in his guts, cold and unforgiving. 

“Felix ?!” 

The echoing weight of an armor. The faltering steps. The breathing, loud, heavy, resonating in is body, and he did not know if it was his or Felix’s. He forced himself to move, to catch the falling body, broken splinters of metal raining on the ground. Ingrid’s gaze followed his fractured spear and climbed along his arms, caught in the claws, the fur, the beastial maw. A step backward, another one, before she stopped herself and forced her body to move forward, steel determination in her eyes. 

“Tell me you worked on your healing magic, Sylvain. I expected… my armor to at least… stop it a bit,” Felix said in a halting voice. His face was pale, one of his hand wrapped around the javelin stuck in his shoulder. All his weight was against Dimitri’s arm.

“What the… Yes, yes, healing spells, right, yes, I still know them, of course, who do you take me for, Felix, of course I know them”, the redhead started, still taking the scene unfolding in front of him. “We need to remove… hm... “ He blinked and took a deep breath. “... Dimitri ?”

Not realizing Sylvain was talking to him, it took him a moment to lower his head and look at the man, who didn’t know how to react. 

“He wants you… to remove… that damn javelin, you idiot boar”, Felix added with a scowl. 

“... Can’t...” 

“Dimitri, can you hold him while I remove the javelin, please ?” asked Ingrid. “That way you do not risk hurting him more.” 

He nodded, the anxiety wound up around his spine relaxing its grip. She nodded back with a shaky smile on her lips. He took Felix against him, too aware of his own movements, of the frailty of flesh against his claws, and she approached to wrap her hands around the javelin with a steady grip. Ingrid looked at him, at his single eye, and counted down to three before pulling the weapon out of Felix’s shoulder. As soon as she did, Sylvain’s hands went up, circles of light illuminating the air with magic, his face tense with concentration. 

The flesh knitted itself back, and Felix let out a sigh when the pain went away, his body slumped against Dimitri's massive frame. The beast expected him to move, to brush off the event like a cat trying to act as if nothing happened after a fall, but he stayed against him, his eyes going from Sylvain to Ingrid. 

“This is awkward”, Ingrid chuckled nervously. She was holding her weight on the javelin, her grip relaxed, tension bleeding out of her now that Felix was alright. 

“What are you two doing here ?” 

“We were worried for you, what do you think ?” she answered with a roll of her eyes. “Your father told us he had not seen you for a whole moon, so we decided to check out the monastery, since you told us you were going to check out the rumors !”

“We didn’t really expect…” Sylvain added, eyes fixated on Dimitri. He had to raise his head to get a good look at him, at his new form that he wasn’t finding words to describe. 

And Dimitri just wanted to hide. The anger he felt, the rage that was all consuming when Felix first arrived did not rise. Not even the dead raised their voices in a chorus of furious vengeance. Instead, shame and guilt twisted his lungs and throat. He had attacked Ingrid. Because of him, because of his recklessness, Felix had been hurt, trying to make sure he did not make things worse. He had been ready to kill, he had been ready to kill him, a moon ago, and now the idea of him dying was fissuring… something… in him, something that he could not pinpoint. 

His head got dragged down suddenly, cold hand holding one of his tusks, gentler than he let it show, and he let out a growl of surprise without trying to fight it. 

“Yes, that is the boar. Beastly as ever”, Felix said with a indecipherable scowl. “Can’t say I want to leave him alone here. This idiot would go back to being the terrifying monster of the monastery or whatever stupid name they gave him.”

Ingrid and Sylvain exchanged a fond but exasperated look.

“Oh, sure, it is not  _ at all _ because you actually care for him, right, Felix”, the redhead said with a large grin. “Still. I do wonder how you got all… furry, I have to admit, Dimitri. It’s… kind of imposing.” 

He received a swift kick in the shin, courtesy of Felix, who was sending a dark glare in his direction. Sylvain grinned at him while Ingrid was trying to hide her own smile behind her hand, fighting to keep her laughter down. 

(if they were not stranded in the ruins of a cathedral, weary behind their mirth and dressed for war, it would have felt like coming back home, warm and full of love - a fantasy, a dream half-remembered at dawn)

“There is more important stuff to discuss, Sylvain”, Felix huffed. 

“Oh yes I am sure we should talk all about your…”

“Sylvain.”

The man jumped, but an amused smile soon bloomed on his lips at Dimitri’s growling voice. He opened his mouth, ready to tease them more, the prince was sure of it, but Ingrid elbowed him, metal against metal ringing clear in the shock of armors, and he laughed. Felix pulled himself from Dimitri’s body, head tilted to try to evaluate the damage to his coat after removing the armor on his shoulder, trying to look like he was losing interest in what was happening. 

“Maybe we should relocate to somewhere else ? I think we should discuss what we should do next, now that we know what happened to you. Or at least know that you are alive”, Ingrid suggested, looking around the cathedral. “And if we could eat something…” 

“I cleaned part of the dining hall, but we don’t have enough food for four. Getting low on meat”, Felix said, looking over his shoulder toward Dimitri. 

“Give me an hour.”

“Take two. I will use these two to help me with the rest. And if I have to scrub your bloody paws myself before you enter the kitchen, I  _ will _ do it.”

Warmth curled between the beastial prince’s lungs, the threatening tone familiar. He nodded and turned his back, waiting for the voices to drown him in the show of weakness he was offering, but only the empty gaze of his father followed him, silent like a grave. 

**xoxox**

“He is…”

“It’s a good day”, Felix cut Sylvain with a frown, directing them to the greenhouse. “You are so bloody lucky it’s a good day. He is so bloody lucky it’s a good day !” 

“What do you mean ?” Ingrid asked. She was taking in all the changes in the monastery with a sad gaze. But most of all, she was looking at the tense lines holding Felix’s body and the way he curled a hand against the wound in his coat. He pushed the door to the greenhouse with his shoulder, a scowl on his face. 

“He is a beast, what the hell do you expect ? He could have killed you. Or Sylvain. And you would just have been added to his bloody parade of ghosts. Some days he can’t make the difference between the ghosts and the living ! They are all the same to him ! If I did not force him to accept to be healed, he would have died from a stupid infection !”

“Felix… You know it is okay if you let us see that you are caring, right ?” She asked in a soft voice. “We know you would not have stayed with him if you did not. I am sure he knows it too.”

“Someone has to…” he started before pausing and shaking his head without finding the words. He kneeled in front of the plot of earth that was not overrun, directing them with a wave to help him father the fruits and vegetables. “I can’t”, he finally grunted, eyes focused on the dirt.

The rare admission of vulnerability made Sylvain stop and turn to look at his friend. They always accepted what Felix showed to the world : an eternal quest to become stronger, to erase the weakness in a body that fought him in a way neither could truly grasp. Angry at chivalry, angry at his kingdom, angry at his father… Angry at Dimitri, at himself. 

Ingrid crouched next to him, to help with his harvest. 

“Why not ?”

“What, you want me to spell it out to you ?” he spit, pain transparent in his voice. “Hate brings no expectations or hopes.”

“But you don’t hate…”

“Shut up.”

He rose, movements sharp and choppy, and turned to leave for the still standing kitchen. Sylvain looked at Ingrid with a rictus, arms full of produce. They had a hard time believing Dimitri would have taken care of the greenhouse, no matter how much Dedue loved it. Which meant it was all Felix’s work, and it was not something he ever had any interest in. 

“Don’t push him too much.”

“Look, I am not going to kick him after what he just told us, Ingrid, I am not..”

“No, no, I know, I don’t think you would do that to him. Get a good grip on your teasing, that is all I ask of you”, she said in a soft voice, eyes on the dining hall. “Even the light one.” 

He gave her a nod and followed their friend, who was already preparing two fires in the kitchen. Some cats and dogs were around him, a brave tiny kitten stuck between his legs, tail curled around his ankle. Without a glance, he waved behind him to the clean table with kitchen knives already out and ready. Ingrid sat down at the table and started to peel off the vegetables they picked while Sylvain searched for pots and pans. 

“Should we tell your father you plan to stay here ? We could make regular trips to help you with supplies”, Ingrid said.

“... I don’t want anyone to know about… hm. Do… hm.” Felix stared at the heating water, his hand finding its way on the kitten’s head, gaze far from where he was. “Do you have any news of Dedue and Ashe ?”

“I didn’t get any recently, but I can send them a word or a letter as soon as I come back to my estate. If Dimitri agrees, they could be the link between you and us.”

**xoxox**

Felix could not put his finger on it, but something bothered him about the situation. He felt on edge, uncomfortable under the attention of Ingrid and Sylvain. They might have dropped the subject of his… situation and choices… but he could feel in their eyes how they kept thinking about it.

The cats started to gather at the entrance of the kitchen and Felix tried to force down his smile in his throat, before a scowl took its place, bitterness spilling on his tongue. When Dimitri entered, a deer on his shoulders, the small army of felines started to rub their heads on his legs and purred loudly. But the beast attention was not on them. 

“Put it at the usual place.”

He could see Sylvain’s raised eyebrow without turning his head. Maybe he could ask him to prepare the meat. At least he would not be the one with a knife in his hands, that way. 

“Felix ?” Dimitri asked when he was done, voice too small for his beastly body. 

If Felix had learned anything, in the moon he had spent with Dimitri, it was that the changes to his hands made life different. He was more brutal than ever in a fight, able to switch from his spear to his claws without a pause. But the heavy paws, the fur, the claws made him clumsier than he ever was. It was a strange sight, an in-between humanity and beastiality. 

“Yes, yes, I am coming, let me finish with that, boar”, he answered. “At least put them in the water, you can do that alone.”

Ingrid stood up and gestured at him so he could get up from the fire and go help Dimitri. One of the cats, an overly affectionate beast, all white except for the orange splotches on her face, jumped on her lap when she sat down to watch over the food slowly cooking. She let her fingers sink in the short fur and looked at Felix until he moved, a soft look in her eyes that made him want to yell. 

Dimitri was crouched, his paws soaking in the warm water tainted a translucent pink. Felix took the bar of soap that he always left in the kitchen, and nudged the beast with his shoulder before sitting next to him. 

"Give me that."

He raised one paw from the water, Dimitri pliant in his hands. Felix sighed. Nicks and scratches were hidden under the fur. As he gently rubbed the coarse hair, working to remove the blood and dirt Dimitri always ended up covered in after a hunt, he let out whispers of healing magic out of his fingers. 

"Did it help?" 

"... Yes."

Barbs about a beast needing to hunt to calm himself down were at the tip of his tongue, but he bit himself when he looked at Dimitri. He was trying to make himself appear smaller, shoulders hunched and back slouched, and he almost disappeared into his cape. His eye was wandering all around to avoid making it obvious, but he was frequently stealing glances at the healed shoulder. 

It felt like a burning brand on his skin, made him want to squirm, to flee and hide. He hated it. Hated the feelings it made rise into him, into the boar, into… 

"Stop looking at me like that. Back to being a beast that doesn’t talk ?” he scoffed. 

Felix felt him jump more than he saw it. He was almost sure that, without the pale fur covering his face, if he had raised his head, he could have seen Dimitri turn red. 

“I was not planning to die for you, you do realize that ? For all you say you are a corpse, you are still alive, and I don’t plan on dying before you.”

He focused his attention on the softer fur inside the wrist, paler, close to the one of a feline than the coarser fur of a boar that ran along his back. And maybe he rubbed the still fresh blood a bit too hard, maybe he searched for the pulse just under the skin, but he refused to admit to it. 

“It would help no one. Not you, not me, not the two idiots looking at us. You better remember that I am not like them. Or my father.” 

“Thank you, Felix.”

“Stop that. Just ! Stop it,” he said, feeling his cheeks warm up. 

The smile that curled around the tusks made him turn even redder. With a grunt, he kicked Dimitri in the leg. Sylvain started laughing, his teasing voice a strange contrast with his hands bloodied and working on the carcass of a deer. 

“When you two are done, can we start actually discuss what we should do ? We have enough meat cut to cook it, too.”

Dimitri groaned and took back his hands to rinse them, the water now clouded by suds and dirt. Felix got up and threw him a towel, and went to help Sylvain with the meat. It did not take too long before they could all sit around, none of them minding their manners except the redhead, desperate from the show. Ingrid stayed near the fire, feeding the rascal on her lap some of her meat, while Dimitri sat on the floor, picking his food with his hands. 

“Dimitri, we need to know… Would you be okay with Dedue and Ashe knowing about your… condition ?” Ingrid asked. 

“How are they ? Are they okay ? Dedue, is he… how… I… I…”

“They are okay. Dedue left Fhirdiad as soon as your death was announced. Felix told him to go to the Fraldarius’ lands and Ashe followed him.”

Dimitri turned his head to look at him, his lone eye slowly blinking, remind him of the cats when they felt comfortable around them. Clouded, but different from when he was only seeing ghosts. 

“You… did that ?”

“What ? I was not going to tell him to go kill himself even if he thought he failed you.”

“Ah… I… Felix, th…”

“What did I say about that ?” Felix cut him, heat creeping up at the back of his neck.

Sylvain snickered. “You are going to get our Felix all flustered, Dimitri.” 

“Can we get back on topic ?” Ingrid sighed. “When Duke Fraldarius told us you might not have died, Dedue decided to search for you. I would guess that either you missed each others, or you avoided him when he came here. So would you agree with us telling him about you ?” 

“I…”

“We thought of asking him to serve as the relay between you two and us”, Ingrid added with a smile. “To bring you supplies, news of the war, and maybe plan further. Having you back would help us, you know ?”

Dimitri looked overwhelmed, his hands wrapped around his bowl, hard enough that Felix could hear the wood creak. He elbowed him in the waist and the beast jumped, blinking again. 

“Dedue and Ashe learning you are a beast : yes or no ?” he asked. 

“Yes. Yes I would agree to that”, the prince said with a short nod. 

“What about them coming here ?”

“... Yes… ?” His voice was more hesitant. 

Felix continued his questions. Who could learn what he became. Who could come. Would he want to travel out of the monastery. He did not want to ask about the war, about what Dimitri wanted to do, but Ingrid and Sylvain were looking at them with hope. They did not know, and even if he told them, they missed it. They had missed it when they were young, the bloodlust right under the princely appearance. So, when he asked if Dimitri wanted to go to war, wanted to fight, darkness fell on the beast’s face, growling voice full of hate against Edelgard, and it did not surprise him. But their friends tensed, memories of the Holy Tomb and the battle of Garreg Mach resurfacing. 

The Empire, Edelgard and the war always brought with them the raging beast from under the veneer of calm, making him doubt what was real, who was the beast, and if he ever would get the answer.

It had been a good day, Felix reminded himself. He had let himself relax too much, the warm bowl of food between his hands. Good days were rare. Good days were precious, even if he struggled to mend the growling beast making the world his battlefield and the almost shy one who stood around to ask for help for the strangest things. The one who he had to help clean his paws and the one clamouring for Edelgard’s head at the gates of Enbarr. They would soon fall back against the violence, the dead, the blood. The war would claim them, bodies to fight for whatever high ideals they were supposedly defending. 

But there had been a smile on the boar’s maw, shy, precious. And now, darkness was twisting it.

All good days had ends. 


	3. Chapter 3

Ingrid and Sylvain had wanted to follow him to the cathedral, the next day, worried about him, or Dimitri, or maybe about what they thought was recklessness. He had brushed them off, banning them from making a step in the holy sanctuary. His tongue was hammering that they were too weak, too blind to face the darkness, and his heart was beating on the drum of worries. 

His steps announced his arrival. He went up to the beast, listening to the mumblings of the raging monster that was towering over him. For all he was obsessed with corpses, his discussions with his shadows were coherent. Promises to bring Edelgard’s head, to break her body, to disembowel the one who killed them all, and Felix wanted to vomit. 

“You are being useless, for the living or for the dead you cherish so much”, he let out with anger. 

A snarl answered him. Dimitri moved, too fast for him to react properly. He was forcing him to back off against the rubbles, and the beast trapped him. And yet, only snarls and growls came from him, his fur raised, fangs bared, making him look even more massive. 

“What are you going to do ? Kill me ?”

The taunt flew straight into the beast’s face. Felix refused to stand down, uncomfortably looking directly at his eye. Dimitri never outright asked it out of him, this contact he hated so much, and yet he got parts of him he would never give to anyone else. And Felix was sure that the boar was not conscious of it. Never before, and certainly not now. 

He wanted it all to explode, for the rage to burn, higher, hotter, faster. Ashes left of feelings, of shadows who should have been left to their graves. Of his heart. Of the ghost he was sure everyone saw in him, a brother he grew to look like when he shifted from expectations to his reality. He wanted Dimitri to slip up. To call him by the name of a dead man. To tear his heart, break hit, ruin it, so he could be free of the beast madness. 

“Go on. Do it. You are going to kill me anyway if you go with your idiotic idea to go directly to kill the Emperor.”

“I need to… I will… I have to kill her ! I have to… for… She has to pay ! I will have her head !”

“Oh, sure, imagine it. You and me, all alone in front of the walls of Enbarr.” 

The roar echoed through his bones, rumbled along his chest, and still he refused to move. The beast raised his lance, the steel darkened by all the blood it drew. Felix did not move. Looked at him, his heart beating, too loud, too fast. 

The hit he was waiting for never came. He had been ready to parry the wide, wild crescent of anger. But Dimitri stumbled back, covered his face in his hands, and Felix rushed when he saw the claws sinking in the fur and blood seeping on his face.

“What are you…! Stop that !”

He grasped at the beast wrists, forced them apart only to be greeted by an ice blue eye, looking far away from him, haunted by more than rage. Fear drowned in anger. 

“Are you trying to turn yourself blind, boar ?!”

“Father, Mother... Glenn… I can’t, I can’t !”

Felix dug his fingers into the fur, so hard his knuckles turned white. 

“Look at me.”

“I… I can’t…”

“Boar. Look at me”, he ordered.

A shiver shattered the beast’s body and he crumpled on himself, held only by Felix’s hands on his wrists. But he raised his head, panting heavily, as if he ran for so long he could only collapse, and his eye found a heavy amber gaze. Felix moved his hands to hold his head, nails scratching the too soft skin, the weak fur under his jaw. He felt the way Dimitri shaked. 

“You can’t go to Enbarr. You are too weak. You will just die.”

“I am… dead. I died. I am...”

“Shut up. You are not”, Felix cut him with a snarl. “You are not dead. Too much of a heartbeat to be dead. So you shut it about being a corpse. I am not helping a corpse.”

“... I can’t…”

“I don’t know what is going on in that mind of yours, your beastliness, but right now, you are alive.”

Dimitri let down his head against Felix’s chest, breath stuttering. His shoulder were shaking under an invisible weight. 

“Why are you different ? Why ?” the beast wailed. 

It had the taste of hopeful tears and confused pain.

**xoxox**

Ingrid and Sylvain had left shortly after this. Their stay had to be cut short after a couple of days : they needed to inform his father of his whereabouts, and contact Dedue and Ashe. They had worried for him, no matter how much he reminded them that he had been living with the beastly prince for longer than they did. 

Somehow, after all of this, the beast had decided that he would sleep with him in his old dorm room, nights after nights. 

“Felix ?”

The swordsman let out a sleepy noise and opened an eye. 

It was the first time, a week after their friends departure, that Dimitri called to him rather than talk to Lambert, Glenn or Patricia, or growl his need to kill, to bring down his blade against the neck of the Emperor. Dimitri was not looking at him, lying on the floor, gaze focused on the door. He was like a semi-feral guardian, not always fully aware of his actions, and refusing to stand down. Ingrid and Sylvain’s arrival had disturbed something in him and Felix was not sure of where they stood, the vastness of an ocean roaring to swallow them if they fell from the edge. 

“What ?”

“If… you had not heard… If you had not come here and found me. Would you have come ? For the millennium festival ?”

“... Yes.”

“I am glad you found me, because I don’t know if it would have been the same with all of you all at once”, Dimitri said in a whisper, so low Felix was not sure he was supposed to hear it. 

The silence fell, heavy like the cloak fashioned out of a flag of a country torn by war. Felix closed his eyes, black and white burnt inside his eyelids, and reached his hand, his fingers brushing the back of Dimitri’s neck, under the wild hair that needed to be brushed. If the beast was still in his good mood, he thought, maybe he could help with that. 

( _ I am glad I found you _ , he refused to say, _ I am glad, I am glad, I am glad _ )

**xoxox**

When he entered the cathedral, the next morning, he was surprised to not see the bright blue spot of Faerghus’ flag in front of the rubble.

“Boar.”

No answer. He frowned. That was usually where the beast was waiting. He rarely went anywhere else, except when Felix made him. Had he seen him going to the cathedral in the morning ? It was such a routine for them, no matter what. During bad days, it was his favourite place to talk to the dead. During good days, it helped him clear his head, from what he told Felix. 

“Boar !” he called louder. 

“Ah... Here !” 

The voice came from the side of the west door and Felix followed it. Dimitri was sitting against the wall, looking at the Goddess Tower, his hands clenched around…

“... is that my coat ?”

“Erh… yes.” 

He had discarded the vest in a corner of his room and switched it for the spare he had brought with him. No time had been spared to find sewing supplies, and he had hated all his time spent in sewing lessons as a kid. So it had left his mind and he had not bothered. He simply had thought he would take the time if if was ever needed. 

“What are you even doing with it.”

A shy smile bloomed on Dimitri’s maw, sharp fangs softened by the expression. 

“I found a sewing kit, and I wanted to repair it for you.”

“With your paws like that ?”

The beast raised a rag that he had been using to train. Trails of colours dotted the frayed fabric, ripped along the edges, small threads poking out of the weave, pulled out by claws. Felix leaned against him, a hand on the back of his neck. Next to Dimitri’s thigh were the unfortunate needles that had been bent to oblivion, a broken pair of scissors, and a small card of colourful thread with only the blues left. 

“I…”

“Kind of impressed you did not destroy everything, boar.”

The shy smile melted into a bright one, as if the barb was a genuine compliment, and it made Felix’s guts twist in a knot. He bit his tongue and dug his fingers in the dark fur. 

“Your hair is disgusting. Your fur, too. You need a bath. I will get the flame going.”

Dimitri nodded and gathered the sewing supplies, folding the coat around them, mindful of his claws. He kept the bundle in his arms and got up. 

“Thank you, Felix.”

“I don’t care for your words, beast, remember that.”

Despite turning his back to the creature, Felix could see how his smile kept shining through. And it was almost too much. With a huff, he gestured at him so he would follow, and left without another word. 

**xoxox**

Two more weeks passed, the Red Wolf Moon almost to its end. Demonic beasts had been roaming near the monastery, as well as bandits not afraid of the rumors of the monster of the Church, both trying to find protection from the colder weather. They had been forced to fight, more than once, adding to the pile of bodies he had been forced to clean. But Dimitri had been giving his help, without a word, his eye still clouded, obsidian claws dripping with red. Every time, without prompting, unless it was Empire troops, whose mangled corpses were so violently disfigured Felix had retched, bile burning his throat, under the dead gaze of the beast. 

With the last day of the moon, dawn on the horizon, Felix found himself watching over the swirling fog below the bridge to the cathedral, lost in thoughts. The rays of the pale sun caught on the white clouds, the silence full of life. But it was a life far from the one he had known, years ago, in the monastery. It was wind and distant howling, the sound of trees, and of cats running around, and the dull thud of Dimitri’s steps. 

He groaned. His thoughts were swirling and swimming, hitting, again and again, the same walls in his mind. There was something about Dimitri and the way he acted. It felt like he was changing, night and day, under the right (under the wrong) circumstances, at the flick of a coin. Before, when they met again after all these years, Felix had to worry about his own neck, about the sudden bouts of violence that could have killed him, his head ringing against the stone until he forced him to the floor, and now… All he could think about was the way Dimitri had laid down next to his bed, eye focused on the door, even when he lost his words for the living. A beast guarding him without acknowledging him. It reminded him of some of those stupid stories of knights and feral dragons, griffins and demons, in which friendship won over blood, and it was so stupid. Dimitri was…

A boar, a prince, a man, a beast, rage wrapped under skin under fur, under the massive body of a lion, a boar, so human and animalistic, and maybe, deep below, a heart shattered, broken in million of pieces. Felix had wanted, wanted, wanted so much to bring them together, to help him, to make him whole again. But he, too, had been broken, and his hands had never been able to hold so much pain, and his own was venom and acid, thick sludge dripping from his mouth. He saw the truth. The violence and the bloodlust. And his treacherous heart still wanted, and his tongue still cut, for the prince was a boar and the boar pretended that no one saw him, and the beast was now for all to see. And still Felix was not sure what to think, the beat of his heart weak. Pitiful. 

(but the beast he lived with was a new truth, and the way his heart beat for him, was still ringing strong in his veins, and he hated himself for it)

A voice broke through his thoughts. At the end of the bridge, a silhouette in dark blue started waving at him, calling him. Felix blinked and straightened up, before recognizing the mop of silver hair and the open expression of Ashe. 

“Felix ! I was not sure where I should look for you, I am glad I found you !”

“Ashe.”

“Ingrid told us as soon as she could, but it took us a bit to come here.” 

Ashe was smiling, open and warm, despite the time spent wandering and fighting wearing on his traits. Felix walked to him and nodded. 

“Dedue is in unpacking the provisions Duke Fraldarius could share with us.”

“... Ah. I thought…”

“No, with what Ingrid told us, we thought it would be better to catch you first. His Highness would be more comfortable that way, doesn’t he ?” 

Felix straightened his back and let go of a breath he was not consciously holding. With a sigh, he brought a hand to his face, hiding from the openly concerned gaze of the archer. 

“Go meet Dedue. I am going to check with the beastly prince if he wants to come see you two right now.”

Ashe nodded and waved at him again with a smile tainted with curiosity, and turned back to go to the dining hall. What was he showing on his face ? He hated this so much, the feeling coursing under his skin, sick and slow. 

**xoxox**

“Dedue and Ashe are here.”

Dimitri let out a puff of air, tension holding at the base of his neck. He felt the heavy gaze of his father next to him, pupils pinpricks of darkness in the vast expense of his bloodied face. When he turned his head, Felix was standing, tense, the shadow of his brother standing in his. 

The aggressive acceptance of Felix had been one thing, a gift with the face of anger. The surprise of Ingrid and Sylvain had been another. Voluntarily showing himself… 

“You don’t have to”, the swordsman said with a grunt, a hand playing idly with the strands of hair in front of his face. 

“I… want to.”

Fingers twisted the hair in a hard pull, uncomfortable to watch. 

“Then come”, he said, dry and short. 

With a slow movement, Dimitri extended his hand, so massive, so heavy, and stopped just short of Felix’s skin. Blood lazily dripped over Glenn’s face, his eyes dark, so dark, his voice a broken whisper of his sins, low, slithering along his jaw and strangling his throat.  _ Remember _ , his raspy voice said, a leash of lead on his muscles,  _ remember, boar _ , it said, voice distorting into the lighter accents of the man standing in front of him.

Felix prized his hands, always had, even as a child. Delicate when he was young, and now a swordsman’s hands, worked on until they blistered and bled and became his pride. Dimitri had often hated his own, jealous of the way others (Glenn, Sylvain, Ingrid… Felix) did not have to worry about everything they held. How much had he destroyed with these ? He could still feel the way a skull would break, the splatters of gore that they all tried to ignore. 

And yet -

(Glenn, covered in blood - his own as much as their assailants’)

(Felix, standing among the scorched flesh of men who had dared to raise their blades against him, the smell of charred corpse and burning blood a perfume clinging to his body - and only his blade speckled in crimson)

A heavy paw laid itself on a too cool hand, and Felix raised his gaze before turning his head to avoid looking at him. But he did not move his hand, let it linger against his.

“We should go”, he said in a rough voice.

Fingers wrapped around his too large wrist and tugged at him to force him to move. At the corner of his eye, his step-mother was looming, her arms wrapped around his throat, her mouth against his ear, and he shivered.

_ bring her head and give the dead their dues _

_ deliver us _

_ deliver us  _

_ deliver us _

“And maybe you will eat more if it’s Dedue cooking it”, the voice said, a strange texture to his tone, cutting through her, and she hated it, she hated it so much. Her hands curled, curled, curled, tried to go deeper into his throat, to force him to silence, and none of them moved. Neither his father, nor Glenn, nor the army of shadows who stand behind them, and he felt like choking on smoke and words. 

_ do not be lead astray by the siren, by the monster under the skin of a man, by the temptation of the living, for you are a beast created from death _

But fingers dug in his fur, in his flesh, and he could feel the beat of blood in the flesh, a heart too fast for the cold expression Felix always wore, and he felt torn, felt a need to wail, to crumble, to rage and carry on.

He stumbled, fell onto the shorter man, who looked at him, pierced him, and she screamed.

**xoxox**

“He can’t.”

It was all Felix said when entering the dining hall, falling into silence and letting himself fall onto the ground to sit next to the fireplace. Burnt down logs and cold ashes felt like the only right element in his swimming, floating state. 

“Can’t ?”

It could have been Dedue or Ashe asking, and he did not care. They were day and night, and he could not give any energy to care enough to pay attention. One of them forced a waterskin into his hands, the other pushed a fruit next to him, sweet scent nauseating. 

“Can’t”, he grunted, eyes locked onto the ground.

It was all they asked. It was all he said. Until he forced himself off the ground, told them of where they could set up their sleeping quarters, and disappeared into the training grounds. Without a glance back. 

Without even caring about how he had looked like. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent two days editing this  
I really hope you all enjoy it :D

It went downhill from there. Dedue and Ashe never saw the beast, only seeing glimpses of the telltale cloak and the sound of his heavy steps, their worries for him obvious. Their worries for them both, in truth, and it made anger flare in Felix’s flesh and bones. As if he was no better than the beast. It made him want to claw at his skin. 

And then, the Professor reappeared on the day of the Millenium Festival, hair a halo of light and hand wrapped around the Sword of the Creator. Their classmates came, fulfilling a promise they made in a better time. They fought against bandits and brigands, a monster standing among them - a beast who disappeared as quickly as he appeared, face and body cloaked in shadows and fabrics, determined to kill those who dared fight against him. 

The others saw the apparition of the Professor as hope breaking through the fog of war, giving them the wind necessary to change the tides of the desperate war against the Empire. And Felix would have agreed… if only the beast did not let his lust for blood consume him. 

Another month came and went, and good days were rarer and rarer. The beast hid in the cathedral, prowled at night around the monastery, terrifying knights, monks and former students who caught him at the corner of their eyes. They whispered of the monster, the beast of the cathedral, rumors running and running and running, fed from years of violence and mysteries. Felix had noticed how the boar had avoided the dorms since the arrival of Dedue and Ashe, and he had, more nights than not, fought the itch to find the creature hidden in the dark to force him to sleep, his steps haunting his dreams. 

Not even Ingrid and Sylvain had been able to approach the boar.

“Felix ?” 

The low voice of the Professor reached him. He did not move his head, gaze stuck to the straw cascading from the guts of his training dummy. 

“I would like to invite you to tea.”

“Sure. After I washed myself.”

“Thank you. I will go prepare the tea. Meet me in my room.”

Half an hour later, Felix was sitting in front of Byleth, hands wrapped around a cup of almyran pine tea, comfortably twisted in the chair kept in his room for these impromptu invitations. The Professor hummed while putting sugar in his own cup, and Felix wondered where the man found so much of it in such a time.

“I wanted to talk to you about Dimitri”, Byleth started, blowing on his tea, his eyes almost too expressive for his bland expression. 

“What about it ? You have seen him. He is a beast. There is nothing…”

“I saw how he acted with you on the battlefield, last week.”

An expedition to protect a village from bandits, near the border of the Kingdom, had turned into a savage fight against demonic beasts. It was hard to tell if this was a way for the Empire to maintain the region into a state of fear or if the war had brought out more of the monsters. Dimitri had followed them, hidden along the way, refusing to show himself, but Felix knew the telltale signs. He may have only spent three months with the beast, but their stories had started since before they were even born. 

“While he lets me approach him, like he lets you, you are the one he seems intent on protecting. None of the others have been able to catch much more than his cloak on the field, but you always fight away from everyone, and he is always near you.” 

Felix only scoffed, refusing to answer any of this. Byleth blinked slowly and tilted his head, gauntleted hand in front of his mouth. The ghost of a smile was on his lips. Those clear, clear eyes felt like they could see more than he ever could. Maybe he, too, like the beast, saw the dead clinging to the body of Dimitri, the one who killed him after his body survived through the flames.

(Maybe he could see the scorched marks on Felix’s spirit, the scars left by lying mirror shards, the kid who cried and cried and cried and who was killed when revenge and grief stole his friend’s soul.)

“I understand why you do it, don’t worry”, Byleth added with a nod. 

“Professor.”

“Yes ?”

“... Help him. This beast is too far gone to realize how bad he has gotten, and I hate him so much for it.” 

Byleth blinked again.

“Of course, Felix, I will help you help him.”

“That is not… !”

“Do you want more tea ?”

With an exasperated sigh, Felix nodded. After filling his cup, Byleth pushed a tray filled with small salty treats toward him. It had always been all in the attention to details, from teas to gifts to food preferences. Now that he was older, he appreciated it much more. For a man who never expressed much, almost blank in his expressions, the Professor always had been good at knowing and learning everyone’s preferences. 

“I don’t know what you are thinking, Professor, but I don’t want you to get any wrong ideas. Someone needs to look after the beast or he is going to hurt people. Himself included.”

Byleth’s fingers were tapping a melody against the wood of the table. It grated at Felix’s nerves, but he was not sure if it was because of the noise or because he was worried about what was going through the other man’s mind. 

“Do you remember when we ate with him ?” Byleth suddenly asked, traits of his marble sculpted face softening at the edges. 

“I remember you insisting very heavily for us to eat together, and how annoying it was, yes.”

“You always fussed over him.”

“I did not…!”

“Always making sure he was eating enough, or that he liked the food”, Byleth cut his half hearted protests with a smile. “You still do.”

Of course he would have noticed that Dedue was not the only one making sure that food would be ready for the beast. What Dedue had noticed, having asked him multiple times to make sure Dimitri had received his part of the meal, Byleth had too. Felix sighed and looked at the Professor from over the rim of his cup, weariness heavy on his shoulders.

“Look. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea”, he said with a strained voice. “I hated him and I still do. My presence has done nothing for him. He is still violent, bloody and beastly, and he will stay that way until he kills himself and us on the way to Enbarr”

“You care about him.”

He did not find the energy to deny it. Byleth got up and started searching around his desk, humming under his breath while opening drawers. With a noise of victory, he pulled out a small bag of smoked meat and put it on the table in front of him. 

“Take this. And Felix…”

“What ?”

“... I know it hurts. But you can come to me when you need it.”

**xoxox**

War councils were perhaps worse than classes. At least, no one expected him to stay quiet and silent while they were debating on their next move in the war. Especially when they kept insisting on, for some reason, that they needed Dimitri’s input. 

Everyone around the table knew. They had seen less than he had, but they had seen enough. More than enough.

“Are you all kidding me ?!” Felix said, raising from his seat. 

“Felix, please.” Byleth sighed. “The news of his survival has been traveling. People have recognized Areadbhar on the battlefield, even if there are also rumors about him no longer being human, or about him being another carrier of the Blaiddyd’s crest. I know we are divided, here, on the path to follow, but...”

“He is our King”, Ingrid cut, a dark seriousness etched unto her delicate face. “It is our duty to follow him.”

“But don’t we have a duty to the people of Faerghus, too ?”, Annette asked, hands wrapped around each others in front of her chest, worries burning too strongly in her eyes.

A cacophony of voices started to blur. Some would follow no matter what. Others wanted to question what they should do, what the best would be. Felix wanted to say it, to affirm that he would not follow the boar, but he knew that it would sound like a lie, even to himself. He hated the idea of dying on the path to kill Edelgard, hated the mad devotion Dimitri had to this idea, and yet. 

A loud clap from Gilbert and everyone turned silent. The stern knight looked over each and every one of them, before sitting down once again. 

“As Byleth said, we need to ask his Highness for his opinion. He is the one who will sit on Faerghus’ throne, and many are here following this hope.”

“Felix, as our beast tamer…” Sylvain started with a grin.

“You don’t need me to ask him. The boar wants to march on Enbarr.”

**xoxox**

Myrrdin’s bridge was conquered, a first step on the road to the heart of the Empire. 

The way the beast roared and threw himself against Ladislava’s wyvern, to protect him when she aimed at him with all the weight of her mount, still echoed under his skin hours later. Soldiers whispered of a monster, a creature sent by the Goddess to punish the unbelievers, a beast created to carry the spear of the fallen King, to avenge him. 

Byleth’s sad smile was no comfort. 

**xoxox**

Felix had thought of hiding himself in his dorm room, like he did five years earlier, but he had decided against it, sure that it would be a futile attempt to avoid his father. The man was still trying, in a way. But he refused to raise his eyes to Rodrigue, focusing on the movements of his blade, on the way his muscles worked under his skin.

“The Professor told me I would find you here.”

The Professor had thrown him out to the wolf ? As if he needed it. But knowing the Professor, he probably thought he needed it. After all, Annette had told him the man had been trying to convince Gilbert to talk to her. 

“Do I look like I want to talk to you ?”

“I know. I worry about you.”

“Don’t lie to me, you are worrying about his Beastliness, and I am the only one who can tell anything about him, except maybe the Professor.”

“While I do worry about him, I did not come to talk about him.”

Felix sighed and turned to face his father. Duke Fraldarius looked worse for wear, and he refused to consider how much worse it must have been without him to help around their territories. He went to the weapon rack and threw him one of the practice spears.

“Might as well make yourself useful.”

A small laughter shaked his father’s body, the sound so light and so foreign. While Felix could easily admit that their relation had been better in the last couple of years, they still carried years of burden and unsaid bitter thoughts. 

“You remind me of…”

“If you say Glenn, I am going to leave you here”, he cut with a glare, raising his sword against his father. 

“... your mother”, Rodrigue finished with a smile, pushing the blade aside with his spear before taking position. 

Felix looked at him and tilted his head, confused. They rarely talked about her, as she died long before he could remember her. But he soon put his questions aside to let the clash of weapons and the ozone smell of magic drown him in their rhythm. Rodrigue’s legwork was solid - human. It reminded him of Ingrid and Sylvain, of the way Byleth curled their hands and showed them how to position their feet. It should have felt natural. Normal. He had spared frequently with his father, in the past years, stuck in a silence the man had respected. Rodrigue was an eccentric, too strung up in his deathly ideals of knighthood. Felix was a realist, who refused to let life escape him despite the pain festering inside. They had nothing to say to each others, outside of the metallic echoes of blades. 

And yet, for all the perfect forms, he expected more. An overwhelming violence, the brutality of bending metal, the sheer power… 

In his distraction, he did not see the low blow coming, and he lost his balance and fell on his back. Rodrigue’s lance hit him in the torso, and a low growl rose from the shadows. They turned their heads and the relaxed line of his father’s shoulders felt strange, a shift slightly to the left, as if what he saw was nothing more than the most usual of sights. 

Dimitri was there, half hidden behind one of the pillars of the training grounds. 

“Your Highness”, Rodrigue said with a short bow. 

“Stop growling, you dumb boar”, Felix added with a roll of his eyes. “What are you doing here ?” 

He took the hand his father gave him, and extended his so Rodrigue would give him the practice spear. He threw it to Dimitri, who caught it without effort and stepped into the dying light of the day, his eye tracking Felix’s movements. Whatever the duke had wanted to talk about, it could wait. It had been too long since the beast accepted to spar, and he itched to fight against his unleashed wild strength. 

“Usual rules, boar.”

Rodrigue retreated behind the pillars as Dimitri charged, and Felix could not stop himself from smiling, despite only metal and low growls breaking the silence. After a few minutes, a strange nostalgic smile on his lips, Rodrigue left and closed the training grounds, leaving them alone to let the beasts run free. 

They would have time to discuss later. 

**xoxox**

Less than a week later, his father died. 

Felix felt empty, a void gnawing at his chest. He wanted to say that he hated his old man, that he was glad that he got to die the way he thought was right. A knight protecting his king, laying his life for his duty (a man protecting the son of the one he had held in his words until the end). 

It was messed up, Felix thought. Messed up that only now, regrets hunting at the border of the devouring emptiness he felt, he thought of all he had missed. They never saw eye to eye, and never would have. Not on death, life and the meaning of protection. 

But his father… 

("Felix", he had said with a smile, "that was what we had picked if you had been born a boy. If you want it, it is yours, my son.") 

His father had never called him Glenn. Oh, he tried to talk about him, about the corpse that was the wall between them, trying to carefully chip at the bricks and only hitting open wounds. But Felix Hugo Fraldarius, in Rodrigue's eyes, only ever was Felix. He had wondered if, like him, his father had stopped when, in the corner of his eyes, he saw his reflection and thought of Glenn. If some days he wanted to stab his own skin, this permanent reminder of the lost one, the ghost that haunted every corner of the Fraldarius estate.

He had so many questions that he never thought he wanted answers to, before. But the opportunity had fled with blood running down and the thirst for revenge of a girl who thought it would make life a little bit more fair ( _ as if life ever was _ ). A death for a death. Her brother for the beast who haunted the monastery and had killed all those who came to hunt him in his den. For all Felix knew, the body that she wanted to avenge was one of the many mangled corpse he had to bury in a nameless grave, and without fanfare. 

And the grief, the grief had pierced through the beast's heart, as if death stealing this man had been enough to finally shake him out of the stupor of rage and vengeance that had fogged him since they went to war. It reminded him of the panic washing over him when Sylvain had pierced through his shoulder, when Ladislava had focused all the power of her wyvern against his body. 

Blood stole his mind, blood stole his body ; and blood gave him back clarity.

(“Life will never be fair”, Glenn had snarled, prickly against the deep water calm of their father, his eyes lit with a fight he wanted to pick up. 

“We have to make it fair”, Rodrigue answered, with a too soft smile. “That is what I swore to do when I dedicated myself to the King.”)

**xoxox**

Another died for him, and Dimitri still felt the way death stole the body’s warmth against his hands. It made his quest for revenge all the more real and pointless at the same time. Fraldarius blood had nourished the earth in exchange for his life, and wasn't this enough ? 

_ Two down, one more to go _ , the hand of fate whispered. 

For the first time in forever, he let himself snarl at those voices. He raised his hands to unlatch the arms of the dead from around his throat, rose from the ground he buried himself.

_ two down, one more to go _

_ bring her head, break her bones, drape us in her guts and pour her blood in our honour _

_ bury yourself, carrion, for you walk for us  _

“No.”

**xoxox**

Dimitri sought Felix that night, following the violence of grief coursing in the swordsman veins, and he answered in kind. The pain was too overwhelming, too blurry, impossible to put in words. 

Night had covered the monastery when they finished sparring, hours spent in a time that felt outside of any other reality (outside of war) (outside of hate, love or any fractured part of his heart, some broken part of Felix whispered). The beast was breathing heavily, pinning Felix on the ground. Black claws were caught against the edge of the swordsman gloves, almost scratching the skin under through the layers of leather and fur. His sword had been long forgotten on the ground in favour of fists and magic, and the remnants of a spear that would never be used again lied far from them. 

“... I yield. You win”, Felix let out in a breath, licking the blood running from his split lip. Bruises were blooming under his skin, not enough to break him, never enough to break him, and from how Dimitri was holding himself, he knew he had given him some pretty ones too. 

The weight of the massive body, letting himself go, crushed him and he let out a yelp of surprise. A cold, wet snout found its way to the crook of his neck, one of the tusk uncomfortably pressing against his collarbone. 

"What…! Hey!" 

Dimitri took a deep breath, as if he had been seeking the scent of his clammy skin. Felix let out a hiss of annoyance, ignoring the way the thought of him seeking the smell felt dizzying, blurry around the edges.

"Boar, what are you doing?" 

"... It’s been a long time", Dimitri answered after a while, his voice hoarse from disuse. 

“... I know."

A lone blue eye blinked at him, clouded in confusion, until a sharp light broke through, as much boar as man. 

“No. It’s…” he growled, painfully fighting to find words he had not felt on his tongue for too long. “The ghosts… They don’t like you. No.  _ She _ hates you. But I… missed you. And I don’t... I don’t want you... ”

He took a deep breath, delicate and shaking.

“I took your brother and your father from you, and I don’t… I have no… no words for it, and…”

Felix raised a hand and slowly combed it into the messy hair of the beast. He had to tug through knots, fingers catching through the awful mess of the unkempt mane. His heart was beating wildly in his chest, rabbit fast, the weight of the too warm body so heavy against his own. 

"I don’t want apologies, boar. Words are useless.”

With a groan, Felix took the tusk that was digging in his throat, tired of the dull, thrumming pain, and nudged Dimitri to move. The beast jerked his head and tried to get up and leave, almost bringing them both up in his scrambled precipitation. But Felix kept his hand on his maw. 

Such a stupidly weak anchor, he thought, and yet. And yet. Dimitri, half up, was frozen against it. 

(Should a beast look fragile ? Ready to break under the lightest touch ?)

"Your tusks, stupid boar. Move them. They are hurting me.”

He wrapped his fingers around the tusk, making sure that the boar would not escape from his grasp. He had to. If he was honest, he needed the contact as much as Dimitri needed it. It had been too long since they talked. 

“... Just… do better, Dimitri. I know you can do it. Do better. Show yourself. Live.”

The body crashed once again with an exhale, limbs scrambling to find a way to fit around his body, to make sure he would not hurt Felix any more.

It felt like a victory, despite their loss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time : a whole lot of Blue Lions and Dimitri interactions


	5. Chapter 5

The Professor was the second one he sought. Or, more accurately, the Professor sought him out, a teapot of warm chamomile in his hands, carefully balancing a pair of cups, handles dangling from his fingers. With a movement that looked more like a shrug combined with a tilt of his head, he invited Dimitri to follow him to one of the terrace near the cathedral. Heavy clouds were threatening in the sky, and only the flickering light of torches accompanied their walk.

With a carefully practice gesture, Byleth put down the teapot and sat down on the ground, before pouring the tea. He lit the air with sparks of magic. Dimitri followed and sat in front of him, confused by the scene. 

“Do you feel ready ?” the Professor asked, his voice devoid of any emotions, but also of any judgement.

“No.”

“Well. I am sure you have people around you ready to give a hand. Like a teacher. Knights. Classmates.” Byleth stopped to sip, and when he raised his eyes to Dimitri’s face, a small smile, bright and sincere, was on his lips. Still mesmerizing after all these years. “Friends.”

Dimitri let down his head and looked at his hands. Friends. A laughter around the fire, the way they all fell in a heap around food. But it felt weak, when thinking of a mess of limbs, of the song of pain during spars, of the way a hand could rest on his neck. 

“Felix told me to live. Rodrigue… told me...”

Claws curled into the flesh of his palms, pearls of blood shining against his fur. 

“But I just… don’t know how to do it, Professor. I have lived for the dead and for revenge for so long. I am a beast, in all the possible ways. Inside and out." He touched his tusk, smearing drops of red on the ivory. "You, or Sylvain and Ingrid… You act as if nothing is different."

There was a divine joke in the way his shape had touches of the boar Felix always called him, in the way Felix was the only one who made him feel as if his body was other. But it came with a recognition, a spark, a whisper he could not quite decipher, but that he was thankful for. 

( _ you are seen _ ) 

"And maybe there isn't."

"There isn't", Byleth said in a whisper. "You are a little more broken than you were, but you are still yourself. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd. And we will find how to help you become human again." 

How to become human again. The words echoed, again and again, hitting the edges of his skull with a shattering strength. Why had he never thought about it before ? (because he was dead, carrion moved by ghosts - a festering puppet of meat). The thought was uncomfortable. This body had been his reality for years. He had learned to live in it, wild and feral, learned the balance of his hind legs and the way he could rely on paws and maw. The way sounds and smells curved and curled around him. 

Become human again. 

It was upsetting and he could not understand why.

“Dimitri ? Is there a problem ? You haven’t touched your tea.”

He shook his head. How to find words for feelings he was not sure he understood himself, sewn together with a thread of hate, pain and anger ? 

“I can’t drink out of this cup, Professor”, he said, extending his heavy, clumsy fingers, too large and strong even for the rough porcelain that the professor liked to use. “Felix just brings bowls when he needs me to eat or drink.” He let out a breath. Small touches of care that never truly sunk before. “... I feel lost.”

“We are here for you. I am here for you.”

With a soft smile, Byleth took one of his hands in his, the leather of his gloves warm. Was it from the tea or from his almost human, almost divine flesh ?

“You can count on us when it becomes too hard.”

He nodded, aware of the void gnawing at his heart, and still, the warmth seeping from the words and the gentle touch was the ground he needed to breathe. 

**xoxox**

The greenhouse was a haven of peace in the busy life of the monastery. When Dimitri entered, Felix next to him, he couldn't help but stop and admire the work that had been done. For all the time he had lived there, alone and along Felix, he had never paid attention to the place. He had a vague idea that the other man had taken care of it, in some way or another. But nothing more. 

It was blooming under care. From lifeless, dry dirt without hope to bear life, to a natural symphony. The scents were strong, and he felt himself relax, so far from the undercurrent of death and putrid rot that followed him everywhere and that no one seemed to smell.

At this late hour of the day, the only one Dimitri felt comfortable walking around, Dedue was showing Ashe how to take care of some flowers, vibrant red against their skins. Dimitri felt a pang of pain in his heart, shameful that, for all the work and energy his friend had put toward helping him, he had ignored him. Him, and Ashe, and all his other classmates who came and never caught more than his cloak and his claws on the battlefield.

Felix elbowed him, tired of him waiting at the entrance, and Dimitri let out an amused puff of breath, something short of amusement. 

"Dedue? Ashe ?" 

"Your Highness !" they said in unison, before Ashe let out an embarrassed noise while looking at Dedue. 

Hopeful tone. Happy. It grated at his ears, wrong, as if it was not something they should be sounding like. He expected (he wanted) harsh words, punishing in their truth, digging where it hurt. An echo to his troubled thoughts.

"I… I apologize for my behavior these past months", Dimitri said, curled on himself, but looking at them. There were more scars littered on Dedue's face, more marks etched on his skin. Ashe's traits had lost a little of their child-like qualities, but his smile was still as bright as it ever was. 

And he could see no fear. Maybe curiosity, in the way their gazes followed the sharp tusks and the angle of his jaw. But no fear. 

"I…"

"How are you feeling, your Highness?" 

Felix let out an inelegant snort at Dedue's question, or maybe at the gobsmacked expression Dimitri could feel on his face. He turned his head toward the swordsman, who was hiding his mouth behind his hand. But there was a small spark in his eyes, hidden behind the frown. 

His attention turned back to Dedue and Ashe. He looked at the both of them, at their open expressions, and bowed, perfect form in a beastly body. A dizzying wave of overwhelming feelings threatened to overcome him, prickling at his skin. Curiosity and acceptance, without the rush of adrenaline from a sudden wound. 

"I swear I will do my best to repent for my actions, and I hope you will accept to follow me on the path to right the event of this war." 

"Of course, your Highness.”

“Also can you both call me Dimitri ? Please ?” 

The sharp, amused grunt that escaped Felix felt warm, as was the embarrassed stutter of Ashe. Dedue shaked his head and turned to his flowers, before picking some up, a deep blue similar to Faerghus’ flag. With a gentle hand, he made Dimitri stand tall, spine straight, and for the first time, the beast realized that he was standing a little taller than Dedue was. The man slipped the flower in his hair. The beast blinked and raised a hand, not daring to touch it in fear of destroying the fragile petals. 

"I will always follow you, no matter what, your Highness. Please remember that", he said, solemn in his vows. 

Dedue turned and slipped another bloom to Ashe, who went to put it behind Felix's ear, the man trying to bat away his hand without much energy. Dimitri smiled at the sight, a low noise escaping his throat, and he earned a light kick in the shin by an embarrassed Felix. 

It was light and it turned from flowers to soft conversation, while Dedue went back to his work and Ashe entertained them with stories he recently read. At the end of the evening, when Dimitri followed Felix back to the room he had prepared so the beast could sleep without worrying, he asked the swordsman to take the flower out and leave it on the small table that he used as a desk. The delicate hands would not hurt the fragile petals, unlike his, still to clumsy, too sharp. With a roll of his eyes and a grumbling sigh, Felix helped.

When Dimitri, waking up the next morning, found the second flower next to the first, he smiled. 

**xoxox**

The Star Terrace was the best place to observe the entrance of the monastery, calm despite the burst of activities below. Felix was sitting at the stone balustrade, gaze unfocused on the movements of the market. Dimitri could not help but stop at the door to look at him. 

The weight in his arms felt heavy, heavier. 

“What are you doing here, your Beastliness ?” 

Dimitri jumped. Felix had not turned his head, his amber eyes focused on the weaponsmith’s shop. His tone was even, without its usual venom, and that was the most worrying part of it all to him. 

“I… Your father asked something of me. I am here for that.”

“He liked spending time here”, came the almost nonsensical answer, followed by a deep sigh. “I kind of hate that I miss him.”

In silence, Dimitri approached him. Felix raised his head, his expression composed in a carefully crafted scowl. 

“So ? What did the old man said ? That I had to protect you ? That I should follow his ideals ? Some knightly wisdom, or any of that crap that he used to spout ?”

“No. He asked me to retrieve this and give it to you”, Dimitri said, and he extended the carefully wrapped package to him. “He brought it with him, but it was not with the rest of his possessions.”

A dull orange light started to shine as soon as Felix started unwrapping it. His hands froze, looking at the way the fabric seemed to light up like embers burning into flames. A relic singing to the blood carrying its crest. 

“... That’s the Aegis shield.”

“Yes.”

Felix let his fingers run along the crest stone on the inside of the shield, the relic warm under his touch. In most of his battles, his father had left it behind, favouring his magic and his lance to fight. The Shield of Faerghus, without his shield, only the one singing in his blood - the melodic whisper of their crest. 

Dimitri sat down on the stone floor next to him, his head against the top of the balustrade. So far up, no one could see them. No one except each others. And Dimitri could see the way Felix’s mouth twisted, his frown, the fight against the sadness that clawed at the edges of his expression. 

“He never was a good father”, Felix said in a low voice. 

Silence was a heavy blanket, a weight over their shoulders. Felix removed his gloves and extended a hand, put it at the top of his maw. His eyes were trained on the lines of the shield sitting on his lap. His fingers were cold like fresh snow and it reminded Dimitri of early morning in Fhirdiad, watching the city covered in white. 

(It reminded him of small, fumbling hands, trying to help with barely bleeding scratches, heavy warm tears filling the air)

They stayed there until the bells rang, breaking the fragile sense of peace.

“Tomorrow, at the war council. I want… I need.. I…” He stopped himself, and almost sunk his claws into his hands, his palms still sore from the pinpricks of blood from his discussion with the Professor. “I need to apologize and show myself to everyone.”

“Good.”

He blinked, his one good eye focused on Felix, who was still not looking at him. His fingers had curled against the edges of the shield, stroking the strange, pulsating material. But somewhere at the edges, his expression had melted into something softer, despite the sharpness always present in his mouth and frown. An echo, a reminder. 

“I will be behind you, boar. Otherwise you might flee before you even try.”

“... Never change, Felix”, Dimitri said with a smile in his voice, curling deep into his throat. 

“I didn’t plan to ask for your opinion on who I am” was the flippant answer. “And we both changed anyway. For better and worse. So stop saying stupid things.” 

With a small tap on his snout, Felix removed his hand and stood up. He turned his head and looked at him, sword sharp and melted metal, and it turned his guts, nausea strangling his lungs.

“You don’t have a short memory. You know how much we both changed. I still don’t understand how you can be both…” a flurry of movements from his hand, as he struggled to find his words. “the sweet idiot, the mad man, the violent boar, or the kind beast. You changed. I changed. Accept it.”

“You did not like some changes.”

“No. And ?”

“What if I liked those changes and you hated them ?”

Felix frowned, deeper, and groaned, tilting his head backward.

“This is dumb. You are dumb. I can’t believe you can ask that. Did you change when I complained at the academy ? No. Did I change when you complained about me ? No. Did we mess it up badly ? Yes. But it’s the past, so forget about that.” Burning amber eyes focused back on his face. “Because unless you decide that you need to go back on your path of destruction and give yourself to the dead, I don’t give a damn.”

“I don’t think you would forgive me if I just decided to disappear and leave the war without doing anything to repent for what I did.”

“As if you would ever do that”, Felix said with a roll of his eyes, a hand covering part of his face. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“What if I decided to stay a beast all my life ?”

Felix raised an eyebrow, and suddenly, a laugh was wrought out of his throat, almost impossible. Ringing like crystal in the air, coarse, rough and so light. 

“I guess you are talking about the fur and claws. That’s what is worrying you, boar ? Maybe you could become our beast king. A King of Lions and the King who was a Lion. That would make one story Ashe would like.”

“Only if they don’t forget about you. A story about a beastly king and the knight who stood with him.”

“I am not a knight.”

“Ashe would disagree.” He would, too, despite being too aware that he would never ask of Felix what the Kingdom ask of its knights. (Aware that, maybe, he had asked too much, his words and heart faster than they should) 

A disgruntled groan answered him, followed by mumbles about not needing someone else to say that to him. Another tap on his snout followed and he got up, his large body casting a shadow in which Felix hid half a smile. 

**xoxox**

Silence fell on the cardinals room when Felix pushed its doors, followed by Dimitri. Dedue and him stood on both sides of the beast, mismatched guardians. All eyes turned to them, frozen with surprise and disbelief. With a large grin, Sylvain waved at them, before turning to Ingrid to whisper in her ears. She rolled her eyes but nodded, and smiled at Dimitri. 

Dimitri took a deep breath and bowed. His heart was beating too fast, too hard, blood beating at his wrists and his neck. His eye kept going down, caught by the patterns of veins in the stones, by the way dirt clung to Felix’s boots, by the fur curling along his hind legs. 

“To all of you, I apologize. My behaviour in the past months, in the past years… was unacceptable. I swear, to all of you, that I will do my best to fight for our people, to stop this war and the suffering that it has caused.”

It felt hypocritical. He could still feel it all. The blood falling and pooling around his paws, sticking to his fur, its weight in his maw. The iron and weapons that should have choked him, turned him inside out, bile rising and his body shaken by retching - he could not even remember their tastes, his tongue useless and dead. 

But he had taken a step into living, again. Falling back into the abyss, dragged by the voices and hands of the dead, was no longer tempting, even with their hammering at his skull. 

“Some of you already knew the truth of my physical state, and I thank you for keeping it secret until I was ready to show myself”, he added, lifting his eye to look at Ingrid and Sylvain. 

Words and noises exploded around him, questions flying around that he could not catch. His shoulders tensed, ears too sensible, ringing with the sudden loudness.

“Please keep calm”, Byleth called with a tired sigh, as if he was back into a classroom rather than a war council. Some sheepish excuses and at least two very, very weary sighs from Seteth and Gilbert answered him. 

“Goddess, Felix, did you help him brush this morning ?” Sylvain joked, his voice so bright. “Our Dimitri looks much more presentable now !” 

He was feeling all of their gaze drilling into him and he shuffled on his feet, the awkward sound of his claws clicking against the stone floor. For all he dominated the room by his sheer height, he felt so small under so much attention. Catherine’s wild eyes, the concern etched on Lysithea’s face, deeper than he expected. The twist of Lorenz lips, full of disgust or concern, or maybe weariness, and the pale face of Ferdinand, next to Flayn’s strangely shining eyes and the smile she tried to hide behind her hands. Ingrid, protective, her gaze slowly going over each members of their army rather than on him, and Sylvain hiding the sharpness of his teeth behind his smile. 

Mercedes, the closest to them at the end of the table, rose from her chair and approached him with a warm smile. He tensed when she put a hand on his arm, delicate fingers brushing against the thick fur of the back of his wrist, barely protected.

“I am so glad that you came back to us”, she said, her wispy voice full of warmth. “It must have been hard, facing all of this alone.”

“What happened to you ? I can’t believe you are a beast now, this is so strange !” Annette asked, and turned red. “Oh, oh goddess, please ignore me, that was rude of me !”

“I… No, Annette, don’t worry. I do… I do not know myself what exactly happened. I can only tell you it happened before I fled the Kingdom.”

The pain, the howls, the blood. The twisting of his body, fangs and claws piercing through the still human flesh. The terrible smile distorting Cornelia’s lips, and her voice smoothing the edges of his pain by making his hatred burn hotter. It painted flashes, moments that he could not string together in a coherent memory. 

Felix’s hand rested at the nape of his neck, his nails digging into the fur. The pression grounded him back into reality. Dimitri looked down, but Felix’s eyes were on the others, daring them to comment on what they were seeing.

Byleth clapped in his hands, sharp. “We have a war council to deal with. Dimitri, Felix, Dedue, please take a seat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lorenz is my weird noble son, no Lorenz bullying accepted here 
> 
> Also I spent so much time anxiously editing this, I hope you all enjoyed it ;-; !! :D


	6. Chapter 6

Arianrhod’s streets and their traps would have stopped anyone, should have stopped any army trying to take the Maiden’s wall. The Empire was stronger, better armed. They had more resources and men, and yet, when Dimitri asked Byleth to turn their eyes to the stronghold, the Professor had smiled and nodded. The preparations had been quick and efficient, and here they were now, striking at the heart of Arianrhod. 

The Professor had directed Ashe and him toward to the southern streets, where the enemy commander was. A bit further away, behind them, Felix was scowling, decked in the gracious dancer outfit that the Professor had insisted on, Levin sword crackling under his hands. Lysithea was standing at his back, her hands dragging and pulling dark energies to trap their enemies. At the back, Sylvain was watching over Mercedes and helping her heal their own, his spear spinning and slashing through the air to protect her.

Dimitri raised his nose, nostrils dilated, and rushed to push Ashe out of the way of the lightning spell aimed at him. The archer stumbled and found his balance back, readying an arrow, his eyes searching for the mage. 

“So the rumors were true”, a low voice said, and both men tensed. “What an… interesting sight. I am sure Her Majesty will love to learn what you are.”

Ashe let his arrow fly and Dimitri threw his javelin, almost breaking into splinters with the song of his blood, and they hit him in his shoulder. But before they can do more, before they can truly cripple the Empire by taking out the Emperor’s right hand man, he warped away, promising them that this was nothing. 

**xoxox**

At the end of the day, they were invited to stay in Arianrhod’s castle for the night. Their journey back to Garreg Mach, after such an intense battle, would be too tiring and dangerous. Byleth had accepted without a fuss, and, with the Imperial army out of the city, everyone was given a room. Still quite uncomfortable showing himself outside of battles, Dimitri had tried his best to avoid being seen, as best as he could. It had been quite awkward when Byleth had presented him to one of the maid, who had been tasked to show him his room and bring him food. The young woman had stared at him with disbelief, and he had felt the need to apologize. When the words fell down his tongue, she had turned red and bowed, apologizing too, before showing him the way around the castle.

As soon as the coming and going of their arrival died down, Dimitri asked the maid to show him the way to Felix’s room. At the door, she left him with a bow, promising she would answer to his calls. He knocked at the door and waited for the muffled noise inviting him in. 

“Did you go see Mercedes, boar ?”

Felix was removing the jewelry and drapes of his dancer outfit, his back turned to the door. It said something about them that they were again so used to each others, despite the strained years and all the rest, that Felix didn’t have to check who was behind him when it was Dimitri.

“No. I am alright.”

“Hubert’s spell hit you.”

Dimitri scratched the back of his neck. It was true that the lightning had struck him when he pushed Ashe out of the way. But bothering Mercedes for so little felt wrong. He had faced worse. 

(He tried to ignore the nagging voice of his father, the clamour of his orders,  _ bring her head, avenge us _ \- He tried to ignore his own voice, a whisper against his ear, _ you should suffer for all their suffering _ )

“I am…”

With an annoyed sigh, Felix turned to him.

“Show me. Don’t be an idiot.”

“I just wanted to check on you. It has been a while since I saw you dance, and....”

Felix let out an embarrassed noise, and started removing his belt, the ringing of the metal clear in the air. Something about him in that costume, without the bells and ribbons, the complex jewelry, was almost too delicate. It made Dimitri feel like his lungs were compressed and his throat closed. He wanted to help him undress, remove the layers like they were his armor, see him relax from the tension of battle. 

(He wanted)

“I still don’t understand what the Professor was thinking.”

“You always were the most gracious of our class. I thought he would pick Lysithea, to be honest, but... ” 

Tension was holding Felix’s shoulders straight, his hands frozen around the drapes that covered his torso. He turned his head toward Dimitri, his face carefully blank. 

“Are you planning on just staying here and look, boar ?”

“What do… Oh. Oh ! Oh, my apologies, Felix, I… ah… Apologies”, he stammered, turning around to face the wall, awkwardly playing with the seam of his cloak, picking at threads that were slowly unraveling. 

He heard Felix sigh, heavy with annoyance, and he could imagine him rolling his eyes at him. 

“I… Ah. This… I know this isn’t…”

“Spit it out, Dimitri.”

“You don’t seem as out of breath after such a long battle as when we were younger.”

It had always been a worry that clawed at the back of his mind, through all the madness, ghosts and blood lust, through the frayed edges of their relation. The way Felix had held his chest, his breath heavy and ragged, and how he refused anyone’s help, except Sylvain and his budding healing skills. Sparring had never been a problem, outside of Felix’s own recklessness. Skirmishes against bandits, shorter fights...

But long, grueling battles ? Dimitri felt awful for not having realized sooner that something was different. Knew that he was not fully at fault, but still felt a creeping guilt about it, crawling along his back. 

“Forget what I…”

“Oh, damn you, we know each others since we were born, don’t act like we don’t know that”, Felix groaned. “I am okay. I no longer need to bind my chest.” 

“Is that why you look so much more comfortable while you dance ? You were awe inspiring today, and I am sure that I was not the only one glad to have the chance to have you encourage us.”

A long silence answered him, before the swordsman let out a noise of annoyed embarrassment. Dimitri was tempted to turn his head, to catch the red that might be spreading over Felix’s face, like when they were kids and someone had complimented him on his sword techniques, or when Dimitri let his admiration shine through his words. 

“Stop saying things like that out of the blue !” Felix exclaimed. “And if it lets people look at me instead of you, good”, he added in a mumble. “You can turn.”

Felix had dressed back, more casually, in his usual pants and black turtleneck undershirt. He had not bothered with the heavy coat and the sleeved shirt he usually wore over it. Dimitri wondered how he would look, dancing this way - without the bells, the jewels, the drapes, just Felix and his grace, without the deadly shine of his sword. 

“... Go sit on the bed. I will check your wounds, if you aren’t going to see Mercedes.”

“You don’t have…”

“Sit. Don’t make me repeat myself.” The tone was short and cutting, and Dimitri couldn’t help a smile before obeying. 

**xoxox**

One night turned into a few days after Byleth received a message from Gilbert asking him if they could get provisions from Arianrhod. While he was organizing and working with Seteth to get everything done, Ingrid had suggested they take the time to see if any trace of beasts similar to Dimitri existed in Fodlan’s history. 

Which had turned into them making the small library of the castle into a mess of books, papers and research. They had gone through almost all the history books they could put their hands into. 

“Sit down, you are going to dig a trail in the ground”, Sylvain said. Dimitri stopped for a few seconds before resuming his back and forth, nervous energy coming off him in waves. “Does it really helps ? Ingrid, does it help ?” he asked, turning to her while waving a hand at their friend. 

“Why do you ask me ?” She raised an eyebrow, not even giving one second to look at the nervous beast. 

“You are supposed to be the one with common sense, here !”

She let out a groan. and elbowed him, which he took with a smile 

Ashe arrived with Dedue. He put a plate with a warm teapot and a few cakes on the table, while the other man was holding old records, found in the archives, with the help of Lorenz and Flayn. 

“Go sit down, boar, you are giving me a headache”, Felix said without raising his eyes from the blade he was sharpening. Dimitri turned his head slowly, came to a stop, and went to sit at the foot of the couch Felix was on. Sylvain let out a snicker and Felix glared at him, scowling. 

“Admit that it is pretty fu…”

“Sylvain, come help me with the records”, Dedue cut him, stern expression on his face. “You did come here to help.”

“I explicitly said I did not come here to help !”

“Take this one”, and he dropped a heavy volume on Sylvain’s lap, who had the decency to not let out a yelp of surprise. Ingrid took another one, trying to hide her amused smile behind her hand. 

“It’s useless”, Felix said, finally finished with his sword. The head of the beast was leaning against his leg, his warmth seeping in his flesh, and he wanted to protest, to refuse the way Dimitri acted. Ask him to get up and sit properly, even if he knew that it would be awkward for the huge beast. And at the same time… Felix clenched his hands around his scabbard. “Who cares about human beasts history ? You really want me to believe that the people of Faerghus will give a damn ?”

“Well… they probably will”, Ashe piped up, busy pouring tea in cups and bowls. “But they will care about His Highness. I don’t think they will be very interested in records of the past, unless we discover something like Loog himself being a beast. Which... doesn’t seem very likely, I admit.”

“I just… don’t want them to be afraid”, Dimitri said. 

“If you act like you are doing now, no one will be afraid”, Felix groaned. “Except maybe scaredy cat kids.”

“You would have definitely been afraid as a kid”, Sylvain said, fingers going along the thin scrawls crammed along the pages of the book on his lap. 

“It’s Dimitri”, countered Ingrid, taking another volume to help out Dedue. “If it was anyone else, yes, but don’t forget it’s Dimitri. It would have taken him roughly five minutes to be all over his fears.”

“Oh ! Remember when Dimitri got him to…”

“Shut up ! Can you two stop ?” Felix barked, red to the tip of his ears. 

Even Ashe couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh, and Felix glared at the whole room, red and awkward. Even the beast was smiling, the corner of his lips curling around his tusks. Felix hated the feeling of warmth that settled in his chest, painful in its nostalgia. 

With a grunt, he held out a hand toward Dedue, who handed him another book, before sitting with them in the couch (unlike Dimitri, the big idiot on the floor). 

“Where are Annette and Mercedes ?” Felix asked.

“You are trying to change the conversation.”

“I am not trying, I am doing it. Where are they ?”

“Outside ! Since we are in Arianrhod, they thought it would be a good place to see what people think, the rumors about Dimitri, this kind of things”, Ashe answered. “I am going to meet with them later, and do the same in the evening.”

“You are going alone ?” Dedue asked, frowning.

“Nope, I am coming with him !” Sylvain said with a grin. “Don’t worry, Dedue, I am going to make sure no one tries to even scratch our baby archer !”

_ Baby archer ? _ Ashe mouthed to Dedue, who shrugged, and Felix rolled his eyes. Dimitri moved his head to be able to look at the records on the swordsman lap, who patted his nose without looking. The low noise that came from Dimitri made him freeze, his cheeks redder than before, and he scrambled to put his hand away, glaring at Sylvain and Ingrid without a word. 

The way the prince looked at him, blinking slow, his smile turned down, felt awful. He was trapped between his curious comfort of moving around Dimitri and the eyes turned on them, the vulnerability of it all, and he hated it. 

“Tusks, stomach”, he grumbled. “Move.” 

As soon as Dimitri changed his position, he missed the warmth.

**xoxox**

“Boar.”

Dimitri stopped and turned. Felix looked nervous, ready to jump out of his skin, still bothered from the moment of vulnerability from the afternoon. In the end, they had found nothing, not in old records nor in history books. Mention of beasts were always about demonic beasts, their mind dominated by their transformation and with few moments of lucidity. His situation was unique. 

As for the opinion of Ariandhod’s people, who might have heard of him or seen him fight in the streets… Mercedes and Annette had come back only an hour before, having met with Ashe and Sylvain in one of the taverns, and the Professor had taken them to his room to discuss. 

“... You haven’t eaten anything yet, I bet”, Felix said, looking to the side.

“Ah… I was waiting for… well, I was waiting”, he said, shuffling a bit on his legs. Felix eyes were drawn to his hands that he tried to keep steady at his side, before looking at him in the eye. 

“You could have asked any of us”, he grumbled, eyes half closed. “Dedue, for example. Go to your room, I am coming back with something.” 

Before Dimitri could say anything, Felix disappeared at the corner of the corridor. A good ten minutes later, he was back at his door. The smell of warm meat wafted from the plate, and a couple of Noa fruits and some slices of cheese were on it too. The scent made his stomach grumble, and he had not quite fully realized that he was so hungry. 

“There. Don’t expect some good cooking, I did with whatever I found.”

“Ah, don’t worry, thank you.”

Felix grabbed one of the fruit and sat down on the desk, head turned toward the window. Dimitri started picking at the food, using his claws to cut it, and chewed slowly, missing the taste that went with the smell. 

“I was serious, this afternoon.”

He tilted his head, looking at the smaller man who was still turned to the window and the expanse of the night sky cut through it. 

“With the way you act, people will not be afraid of you.” 

“They probably should.”

With a roll of his eyes, Felix picked the second fruit and made it roll between his fingers. Dimitri reached for the cheese, appreciating the way it felt on his tongue, despite the weight that was between his ribs and made it hard to swallow. The eyes of the maid, large and shocked, and the way she moved, full of so much deference - but all he could see was fear, fear, fear, in a trembling limb, in a shaking voice, in a badly concealed gaze.

“Tsk. Outside of battles, the most terrifying thing you are doing is forgetting you have some goddamn tusks and that my stomach is not invulnerable.”

“I am sor…”

“Stop apologizing. Just remember it”, Felix cut, before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of the fruit. “Still. People… With the war, they can get used to you like that. And accept you.”

“I guess the word has already started to spread further than I ever expected it.”

“It is hard to hide you when you fight like you do.”

With a nod, Dimitri approached and sat on the stool. Like this, they were almost eye to eye, and Felix turned to him, forcing himself to look in his eye. There was a tension in the amber, in the way he held his shoulders. When he reached for his maw, scratching under his chin, eyes back to the window, the beast could only let out a confused noise.

“Why…”

“... I hate the way they looked at me like they did this afternoon. The stupid smiles. How weak it makes me feel. But I don’t dislike touching you.”

Slowly, Dimitri blinked, the words sinking in. After a moment, he frowned and opened his mouth, but Felix stopped him with his hand, and he wanted to melt against this touch. 

“Not your fault. And… Goddess, you are an idiot if you think it’s not different with you.”

“I understand. I guess… we have seen the worst of each others, right ?”

Felix snorted, his expression softened by an almost smile, molten gold against his lips. His whole body tilted, leaned against Dimitri’s shoulder, and all he wanted was to hold him there and keep him like this. Close. Relaxed. 

( _ you will break him, you will kill him _ , rasped Glenn, and for once, it was easy to listen and not let it run in his veins with the fire of a funeral pyre)

“Yeah. Yeah we have. And we are here, both.”

An annoyed noise was all the protest he received when he nuzzled Felix shoulder, with a mutter about a cold nose. His scent was a comfort, despite its tinge of metal, its sharpness, but it was so him. Alive. The one who pushed and prodded and was still there despite everything. 

He had memories from their childhood, a fuzzy scent of warmth, of salty tears, wool cloaks and spices. This was different. Felix was different. Nuances would have escaped him, had he not been a beast, and yet, he felt like he would have missed it. 

“What do you plan to do ? After the war ?” he asked after a moment of silence. 

“No idea. I should go to the Fraldarius territory, but…”

“Would you stay in Fhirdiad ?”

“Let’s win the war first.”


End file.
